


Cinnamon Sugar

by Missy



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery
Genre: Adopted Children, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apples, Baking, Christmas, Christmas traditions, Established Relationship, F/F, Found Family, Kissing, Making Out, Post-Canon, Romance, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28000131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Anne and Diana bring the last of the fall apples out of the cellar for the children to make pies with - family Christmas traditions, after all, must continue.
Relationships: Diana Barry/Anne Shirley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13
Collections: Yuletide Madness 2020





	Cinnamon Sugar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rina (rinadoll)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinadoll/gifts).



Anne has gotten up the last bushel of apples from the basement. Their sweet, almost winey smell makes her sigh her delight as she rests it upon the stove. 

Diana – pink-cheeked in a soft red apron and flannel shirt – peers at the lot. “That should be just enough for a pie.”

“I think so. This will be all until the fall,” she warned Diana, setting out each one upon the stove. They would wash them before calling the children into the room.

Diana smiled. “It will be worth it, to teach the children how to make a fine pie.” They’d put up raspberries and blackberries in the summer, and the blueberries they’d had in the spring with a few dozen pears beside, so it wasn’t as if January, February, March and April would be an endless, fruitless suffering. 

Anne glanced out the window, seeing Timothy and Jemmy running around through the snow, dragging Kate and ‘Rilla on a sled Matthew had hammered together for them. The first snow of the year had come in November and one more storm had made the ground a sweet, wintery white, the same glimmering shade of thick sugar frosting on a warm Yule cake.

The children had come to them in different ways – through Diana’s endless work at the newspaper and her never-ending support of the plight of orphans, through Marilla’s friends and church connections. They’d found Jemmy on the streetcorner selling newspapers for change, and the battle to adopt him had been long and arduous. 

But here they were, a real family.

Diana was humming at the stove as she peeled the apples, splitting white flesh from their seed-laden cores. Black ovals dotted the cutting board and she swiped them into her apron before carrying them to the rubbish bin. Anne’s heart beat hard in her chest, the same way it had when she’d pressed a shy kiss to Diana’s cheek when they were no older than ten.

It wasn’t easy, but keeping quiet and cheerful seemed to drive most of the gossip off. Being a famous writer – and one willing to donate to the town’s coffers – had greased a few wheels for Anne as well.

“Shall I call the children?” Anne asked. The spicy-acrid scent of cinnamon filled the air as she reached beyond Diana and pulled down a small jar of the spice.

“I believe it can wait,” said Diana, rubbing her nose against Anne’s. “They need the exercise,” she added, and allowed herself to be lost in the sweet-tart smell of the kitchen, the heat of Anne’s embrace. Anne satisfied herself with a few nibbling kisses, and the spicy perfume of Diana’s neck. The woman was a roaring glory. 

How lucky was she?


End file.
